Out On The Line
by PurpleYin
Summary: A hogwarts reunion ten years after everyone left to go their separate ways. hermione once again meets the man she loved all ago. Can you guess the ship? Read it, review and solve the mystery of who it will be.
1. Old Feelings Stir

Disclaimer: No I don't own Harry Potter etc. J K Rowling does.

Author's Note: Here's a short fanfic I idly wrote whilst I take a break from my other harry potter fanfics (mostly a break from Fathers Daughter, check it out if you like) After writing it I decided to try to make it a mystery, to strike off people each short chapter til you got the right answer. 

Feedback appreciated. Have fun figuring out who it'll be. Could be anyone, but just look at the clues.

* * *

I craned my neck, to look over his shoulder, he'd grown quite a bit since when he'd started Hogwarts. Even since I'd last seen him at graduation. 

By the stands stood Colin Creevey and his wife, he was for once on the other side of the camera. Colin was the bane of many students at hogwarts, always had a knack for taking awkward pictures – good pictures yes, but compromising for those in them.

And over the other side of the room I spotted Cho Chang. I'd once thought of her as an adversary, as most boys in the school had fallen for her atleast once. The only exception to this I'd noted was Ron, who was impervious to her charms, or maybe he saw the truth that she had none for him atleast.

At that I moved round to place my head on my man's other shoulder. He seemed unnerved by my avoidance of his face. I longed of course to look into his eyes, they held something special in them like everyone's did. Infact most people who knew him believed in what they saw in there, that the eyes could be portals to the soul, an indication of a person's true spirit. I however never took much note of his eyes or what they showed despite the fact that others judged him on what they saw there, my faith in him was based on what he was like truly inside, qualities I knew he had in him.

Looking over him, away from him I recognised a pale face in the crowd, Fleur De Lacoeur.

I nearly laughed at that. If only Viktor Krum was here, then we'd have a full reunion of the Triwizard Champions.

I was quite sure Cho might use that to her advantage if it had been so. I could imagine the blunt melodramatic cry of how the memory rose back up to haunt her. Bringing with it no doubt the condolences of the dozen or something crowd of males already surrounding her _fragile_ form, as she would announce her melancholy after all the years still and burst into crocodile tears.

Fleur meanwhile broke in to steal the dance from me, gliding away with him and a sparkle of veela charm in her eye. Lucky for me I knew he was all too immune to her, part of the reason why I think Fleur liked to try it on. Thesedays she was an assistant at the school, which must have been why she was here. Cho and Colin too would seem out of place but for the fact that the reunion was for several years all at once.

I'd read, I think, more recently about Fleur's promotion – international correspondent between the European wizarding schools and also teaching French for those students going on exchange to Beauxbatons.

I silently watched the two gracing the halls beautiful floor with their steps. I studied his figure, I'd never considered him for much of an athlete despite his quidditch position. His structure more slight than most. His hair too was of little importance to me, nice as it was.

What was inside mattered most.

His appreciation of my being, that was what I loved dearly about him, the only slight hint that he might ever think of me that way.

From the floor I caught a glimpse of his miserable face scowling at the flirting half-veela witch. I popped a hand over my mouth to stop myself from giggling in amusement at his predicament.

I wondered if awards would be for me still, as the best witch of the class a decade ago.

I hadn't really made the most use of her life.

Even Ms. De Laceur had done better than me.

Unsuccessful at inventing charms, I couldn't get the job I wanted in arithmancy, not enough experience they said.

Atleast not as good as my ambitious competitor who'd they'd sacked me for several years ago.

It had been my first job out of Hogwarts. I'd never found another good enough for my mind.

It was wasted on writing tasteless mindless articles on the use of dog-violet in love potions or how to make yourself alluring as a vela; that I wrote for witches weekly now.

So ashamed of the dull articles I had a writers pseudonym, only ever admitted I was a journalist, small time explained it away. Junk. All of the magazine and yet I still wrote because it paid its way and for my continued existence in my own place.

And they'd surely crown him King of something in the awards. He was like Cho and several select others, someone who'd done great things with his life, achieved something. Made a name for himself on his own merits.

He'd overcome everything from his haunted past, from the family legacy he had and now he was only himself – not merely the sum of all his genetic predecessors or ill-fated relations.

Towering over the other stars because unlike them all before, he'd succeeded totally in his field as someone legendary.

I recalled watching him on the stand at the graduation, giving the speech to everyone about how life had ended up, about what was important.

Then it had made me feel special, proud to be as he described. But now I knew I had none of that former glory.

I was a washed up witch in a dead end job, hanging onto earlier dignity and grace.

What could they possibly crown me except loser of the year.

I glanced up from my reverie to see his startling eyes boring into me, filled with a partially hidden concern. I bit my lip, afraid to look once more to him.

Why was it him I adored? The man who was so wrong for me, that was only a friend and nothing more.

I hadn't always felt like this. There had been a time when such feelings were wholly alien in concept. Yet everything had changed in my heart from fifth year and what was today had been ever since.

* * *

So who do you say it is? Any new predictions? Any changes to it from others? 

And please remember that 10 years has passed in this fic, you are not only dealing with canon. That said take your guesses. I shall be revealing it in the next chapter.


	2. The News is Old

Disclaimer: No I don't own Harry Potter etc. J K Rowling does. 

Author's Note: Here's a short fanfic I idly wrote whilst I take a break from my other harry potter fanfics (mostly a break from Fathers Daughter, check it out if you like) After writing it I decided to try to make it a mystery, to strike off people each short chapter til you got the right answer. I'll only write if I get lots of reviews to show people are actually participating (as it is) in the fic. 

**Feedback appreciated, to purpleyin@dg-s.fsnet.co.uk or on a review if you do. Have fun figuring out who it'll be. Could be anyone, but just look at the clues.**

~

I craned my neck, to look over his shoulder, he'd grown quite a bit since when he'd started Hogwarts. Even since I'd last seen him at graduation.

By the stands stood Colin Creevey and his wife, he was for once on the other side of the camera. Colin was the bane of many students at hogwarts, always had a knack for taking awkward pictures – good pictures yes, but compromising for those in them.

And over the other side of the room I spotted Cho Chang. I'd once thought of her as an adversary, as most boys in the school had fallen for her atleast once. The only exception to this I'd noted was Ron, who was impervious to her charms, or maybe he saw the truth that she had none for him atleast.

At that I moved round to place my head on my man's other shoulder. He seemed unnerved by my avoidance of his face. I longed of course to look into his eyes, they held something special in them like everyone's did. Infact most people who knew him believed in what they saw in there, that the eyes could be portals to the soul, an indication of a person's true spirit. I however never took much note of his eyes or what they showed despite the fact that others judged him on what they saw there, my faith in him was based on what he was like truly inside, qualities I knew he had in him.

Looking over him, away from him I recognised a pale face in the crowd, Fleur De Lacoeur.

I nearly laughed at that. If only Viktor Krum was here, then we'd have a full reunion of the Triwizard Champions. 

I was quite sure Cho might use that to her advantage if it had been so. I could imagine the blunt melodramatic cry of how the memory rose back up to haunt her. Bringing with it no doubt the condolences of the dozen or something crowd of males already surrounding her _fragile_ form, as she would announce her melancholy after all the years still and burst into crocodile tears.

Fleur meanwhile broke in to steal the dance from me, gliding away with him and a sparkle of veela charm in her eye. Lucky for me I knew he was all too immune to her, part of the reason why I think Fleur liked to try it on. Thesedays she was an assistant at the school, which must have been why she was here. Cho and Colin too would seem out of place but for the fact that the reunion was for several years all at once.

I'd read, I think, more recently about Fleur's promotion – international correspondent between the European wizarding schools and also teaching French for those students going on exchange to Beauxbatons.

I silently watched the two gracing the halls beautiful floor with their steps. I studied his figure, I'd never considered him for much of an athlete despite his quidditch position. His structure more slight than most. His hair too was of little importance to me, nice as it was. 

What was inside mattered most.

His appreciation of my being, that was what I loved dearly about him, the only slight hint that he might ever think of me that way.

From the floor I caught a glimpse of his miserable face scowling at the flirting half-veela witch. I popped a hand over my mouth to stop myself from giggling in amusement at his predicament.

I wondered if awards would be for me still, as the best witch of the class a decade ago.

I hadn't really made the most use of her life.

Even Ms. De Laceur had done better than me. 

Unsuccessful at inventing charms, I couldn't get the job I wanted in arithmancy, not enough experience they said. 

Atleast not as good as my ambitious competitor who'd they'd sacked me for several years ago. 

It had been my first job out of Hogwarts. I'd never found another good enough for my mind. 

It was wasted on writing tasteless mindless articles on the use of dog-violet in love potions or how to make yourself alluring as a vela; that I wrote for witches weekly now. 

So ashamed of the dull articles I had a writers pseudonym, only ever admitted I was a journalist, small time explained it away. Junk. All of the magazine and yet I still wrote because it paid its way and for my continued existence in my own place.

And they'd surely crown him King of something in the awards. He was like Cho and several select others, someone who'd done great things with his life, achieved something. Made a name for himself on his own merits.

He'd overcome everything from his haunted past, from the family legacy he had and now he was only himself – not merely the sum of all his genetic predecessors or ill-fated relations. 

Towering over the other stars because unlike them all before, he'd succeeded totally in his field as someone legendary.

I recalled watching him on the stand at the graduation, giving the speech to everyone about how life had ended up, about what was important. 

Then it had made me feel special, proud to be as he described. But now I knew I had none of that former glory. 

I was a washed up witch in a dead end job, hanging onto earlier dignity and grace.

What could they possibly crown me except loser of the year.

I glanced up from my reverie to see his startling eyes boring into me, filled with a partially hidden concern. I bit my lip, afraid to look once more to him. 

Why was it him I adored? The man who was so wrong for me, that was only a friend and nothing more.

I hadn't always felt like this. There had been a time when such feelings were wholly alien in concept. Yet everything had changed in my heart from fifth year and what was today had been ever since.

---

Review, review! Please do.

so who do you say it is? Any new predictions? Any changes to it from others?

And please remember that 10 years has passed in this fic, you are not only dealing with canon. That said take your guesses. I shall be revealing it in either the next or 4th chapter.


	3. Something He Said

Disclaimer: No I don't own Harry Potter etc. J K Rowling does. 

Author's Note: Here's a short fanfic I idly wrote whilst I take a break from my other harry potter fanfics (mostly a break from Fathers Daughter, check it out if you like) Here ends the mystery, did you see it coming. And please don't hate me f its different to what you were thinking it would be, after all I never lied… And please do review what you thought of it, who you thought it was before etc. 

~

I watched him dancing for ages. He would flurry by in the arms of a stranger, a different girl each time. He did it to keep up his manners. 

If I knew anything about him it was that he had respect for tradition, he wouldn't refuse a parole over the carefully placed tiles that made up the ornate base to the room. 

That one word that embodied him. Honour.

He was made up of it, a family heirloom of the character. Perhaps it was not always used to great purposes but he held it still as a last vestige to those before him.

I thought back to fifth year, the year when I'd know what I'd felt. Even then every action I'd seen was to honour and to his pure motivation to stay alive, to survive what befell the wizard world. 

He was making sure his family line lived on, because at the end of the war there could only be him or none.

That was the year I was hated. Much like Harry was hated before. In second year, I remember how they treated him when they thought he was the Heir of Slytherin. And in fifth year, as I struggled on to do our ever important O.W.L.S – they would taunt me for my involvement with him. no one understood why. The small group of those who knew were still wary of it all, only I accepted him as he was. For no good reason so they thought and that's why the tears came on and forth. He was the only one there, bruised as he was too by the experience. He was the only one to comfort me, even though he himself did not understand. Perhaps that's why we were friends and why I wanted more. I'd finally seen inside him, found the truth he'd denied to everyone. With noone else able to get close enough all those years.

My thoughts came back to present day, as the new teacher of history Professor Yomashi was trying to address everyone.

Time for the nominations.

The awards.

I suppressed a few giggles at Neville's award for least likely to become potions master.

And it was a draw between Cho Chang and Parvati Patil for the most accomplished female students, Parvati in the muggle world as an astrologer and Cho for her quidditch.

My name got no mention unsurprisingly.

I looked across the hall to where he was sitting with his guest. She was pretty, I felt my heart sink. He'd shown little interest in her through the night, dancing with other girls but that was no reflection on his interest for me.

Whilst I watched him, he looked startled at the mention of his name.

The Professor called him up happily, eager to meet and greet the man he'd not had the opportunity to teach.

Yomashi held out a hand for my stunned friend. Shaking it as the receiver of the award glared confused out at the audience.

He had the expression on his face as if he was totally out of place, strange for him. Someone with such confidence in everything. 

He took the personalised ferret shaped award graciously. 

Each person had gotten a different animal so far. Neville had proudly got given a toad, his favourite fortunately but Cho was looked positively disgusted at getting a salamander.

I shook my head at the scene, vaguely amused and then cast my eyes down unable to look at the debacle much longer. I didn't want stares from everyone as I burst into laughter.

Yet I found my gaze drawn upward to meet hundreds of eyes directed at me, and his face clearly locked to mine. 

He spoke loudly, much like the speech all those years ago, telling of how things had changed.

Now too he spoke of the same thing but it had altered, he talked about me.

Call it ignorance if you must but I had never taken that article very seriously. It had happened fifth year when I'd had the imprudence to let Rita Skeeter go. She'd not been grateful despite getting off lightly with the ministry of magic after I reported her to them.

She'd spotted the developments at Hogwarts and written a salacious piece all about what was 'going on'. She luckily didn't know enough of the truth or she would have publicised something Voldemort could have used greatly. That was why the truth behind the story could not be revealed, why I had suffered the torment and suspicion for half the school year. 

I'd been implicated to being involved with him, to the horror of everyone in the community and the school. The whole saga had spilt out in the papers, lewd details all really put down to Rita Skeeter's equal imagination. The other rumours however weren't too outrageous. No one in their right mind could have been expected to believe anything other than what she said on the matter.

Because it all added up and so my place in the plot was set. And no one would trust me totally again.

They thought I was a traitor.

As was he.

But what they didn't know was exactly what the reality was. 

I heard him exclaiming my name; he was saying I was the one who deserved the prize.

He said that because I'd made him who he was.

I could only presume he said so in reference to the tough time we had that year, together in our newly struck friendship of sorts.

Yet he said it to them all, infront of the classes of former students, who stared in anticipation at what he'd say next.

He said nothing except to me. With his eyes watching me gently. All attention focused on me. I shifted uncomfortably.

Waited for his conclusion. Such an outburst couldn't end here.

Then I heard it.

"I love you Hermione Granger"

He said it so softly but with an amplitude so that every single person could perceive it too.

And I stared back in utter disbelief at the man I'd loved for years, who I'd thought was deprived to me by everything going against that concept between us.

He walked down from the podium, silence suspended by every last person there.

Descending the walkway he took my hand as he reached my seat and I stood up, holding his hand in mine. It seemed incredulous this could be true…. 

That he could love me, despite what was the past, what he had once thought of me; and that I as the witch I was, could love the terrible selfish arrogant man before me simply because of the look in his grey eyes that told me he really cared anyway…..

I'm quite sure the most vivid event at the reunion that year was myself and him kissing in the middle of everything. 

Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, once mortal enemies, sharing a warm embrace.

No doubt we made the press once again, this time it was all completely spot on exactly to veracity.

Friends had been enough trouble for them to believe before, I don't think anyone could really cope with us as lovers.

~~


End file.
